


Idle Hands

by Silex



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Coercion, F/M, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/pseuds/Silex
Summary: A superior officer having candid photographs in his desk of a subordinate who is half his age, ridiculously naïve, and barely an adult is probably not a good thing. Especially when said superior officer has a penchant for manipulating his team and treating them as objects to serve his purposes.





	Idle Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HostisHumaniGeneris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/gifts).



“Miss Chambers,” Wesker smiled, watching her look away. The girl was pathetic, hardly able to look him in the eye, and it had nothing to do with what usually happened during these late night meetings in his office. Right from the start she’d been unable to make eye contact with anyone, even her own teammates. Of course he hadn’t chosen her for her confidence or any particular set of skills. She was a child prodigy who’d jumped at the chance to work in Raccoon City, even if she had no idea what she was getting herself into when she joined S.T.A.R.S. To tell the truth, that meant she was hardly any different than the other supposed geniuses that Umbrella Corporation had hired over the years. The only real difference was they had known they were working for Umbrella, even if they didn’t know what their work was being used for.

They never knew at the start at least and if and when they did learn, they either took to it or they didn’t. Often the results were the same either way.

“Yes Captain?” She stood in front of his desk, looking down at the floor as though expecting to be scolded, forcing him to hold back a smile.

Despite all of her incompetence, he’d never once reprimanded her when he called her to his office. In fact he let her get away with quite a bit more than he should have. Then again the same could be said for the rest of S.T.A.R.S., and as ignorant as she was to the way of things, he doubted that she noticed, which was a shame. It would have been interesting to have that to hold over her head.

“We need to talk.”

Yes, he was drawing things out pointlessly, but he had nothing better to do at the moment. Waiting for tests to be run, to hear back from various people about various projects he didn’t care about, for the damned Tyrant to be ready for field testing. He hated waiting, but he’d been told to take a step back, to focus on S.T.A.R.S. rather than anything of use.

Anything of immediate use, he corrected, S.T.A.R.S. would be very useful gathering field data when the time came, but that all depended on the Tyrant project actually yielding viable results. So far it had been a catalogue of mildly interesting failures.

So he sought what diversions he could.

He looked at Miss Chambers, smiled, then reached out and lifted her chin so that she would look him in the eye. It was the only way to get her to do it.

She gave him a forced smile, her eyes wide and frightened.

“About your future here with S.T.A.R.S., maybe even with Umbrella,” that was a lie, neither she nor any of the other members of her team had anything resembling a future with the company. They were an elite team of dupes and cat’s paws, hand selected by him for cleaning up Umbrella’s messes.

So far there hadn’t been any need for them, thankfully. He’d picked them more for how easily he thought they could be manipulated than any of their resumes, though some of them had admittedly impressive credentials.

Miss Chamber’s expression brightened momentarily, “Really?”

“I have some connections in the company and I think your talents are wasted with Bravo Team,” Wesker adjusted his sunglasses. William might have joked about it, but Wesker found that having it so he was harder to read made most interactions easier, “We’ve discussed getting you assigned to help with one of Umbrella’s projects, it’s just a matter of finding the one that’s the right fit for you.”

Miss Chambers on the other hand was an open book with her almost comical look of relief, unaware that in his mind her best fit was testing the combat effectiveness of B.O.W.s, observing the lethality of a new virus strain, or providing a temporary diversion as she was doing now.

“There aren’t any openings at the moment,” he made a show of looking at his computer monitor and scrolling through several files, all defunct projects, but she didn’t know that, “But there are sure to be some soon.”

Only because several of their best scientists had started asking inconvenient questions and would need to be dealt with. He wasn’t the only one who thought that Spencer had finally gone off the deep end and it was a shame that the company was losing so much talent because of it.

“What sort of projects?” Her blind enthusiasm never ceased to amaze him.

“The usual, new drugs, vaccines, various quality of life enhancing treatments,” he answered like something directly out of one of the company’s stupid marketing pamphlets, “We’re always looking for new interns for medical research projects.”

Because the old ones kept ending up used for those projects when they had accidents. If he’d thought that any of those projects had a chance actually giving useable results with her help he’d have transferred her immediately. Miss Chambers had already proven that she was good at following orders and keeping her mouth shut afterwards.

He sat silently, waiting for her to ask another question.

It was a fun game to play, seeing how long she could keep herself convinced that this time there were no ulterior motives for him calling her to his office after everyone else had gone home for the night.

Once again unable to look him in the eye, she stared at the door.

“So should I leave now? If there’s nothing else,” she shifted her weight from foot to foot, wanting to walk away, but not daring to do so without his permission to do so. If only all his subordinates were so obliging.

“I didn’t say that,” he pushed his chair back from his desk, “I think you should stay for a while. Take a seat, relax.”

He watched her look frantically around the room, trying to figure out the game. It shouldn’t be too hard, his was the only chair in the room and it wasn’t like they hadn’t played this game before, late at night when there was no one else around other than Irons, waste of bribe money that he was. It wasn’t like the man wasn’t doing far worse things, likely in the very same building, possibly while they were there. After all the Chimera project was one of those scrapped projects and the disappearances were still continuing at the same pace. Before it was all over, right at the end, he wanted to catch Irons in the act and laugh at him.

That was for later though, there was still so much that had to be arranged.

Miss Chambers was still looking around the room.

If she sat down on the floor…

His expression, or perhaps his pushing his chair slightly farther back from the desk gave her enough of a hint.

She looked one last time at the open door, disbelieving, as though by being open to the hall it had betrayed her.

That had been the point of it though, to keep her off guard. She was more than smart enough to trick herself. After all, she had left it open when he had told her to, lulling her into a false sense of security.

Nothing bad would happen with the door open.

Slowly she walked around the desk, waiting, hoping for him to say that she was wrong.

She sat down on his lap, facing the door, not him.

“What if someone comes by?”

He put an arm around her, pulling her in close, “Are you afraid that someone will?”

She was, he could tell by the way she kept staring at the door as he slipped a hand up under her shirt.

He could feel her tense as he massaged her breast, pinching and pulling at her nipple.

She gasped, leaned forward, trying to get away from him and pressing harder against his hand.

He squeezed this time, eliciting another, louder gasp.

“If you’re that worried about someone walking in on us you’d best be quiet,” he whispered against her neck, wondering what she would do if he kissed her there, or bit her.

So far he’d been careful not to leave any marks during these little diversions, but he was curious to see how she’d hide or explain away some evidence of their activities. She could do it, he was certain of that, the only question was how.

She nodded, unable to get away and torn as to what to do.

If she leaned forward as she was doing, she leaned into his grip, if she leaned back she pressed herself against him.

Giving her the choice, waiting to see what she would do, was all part of the game.

Wesker rested his free hand on her thigh and she clamped her legs together.

He hadn’t been thinking of that, but clearly Miss Chambers had.

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this,” he teased, “That the likes of you managed to catch my attention. You should be flattered.”

No response, not that he expected one.

He could get one though.

Lifting her shirt he pulled her bra up and out of the way so that she could watch as he rolled her nipples between her fingers.

“See?”

That look of horror as she watched her body respond to the stimulation was something he would never grow tired of. He wondered if it made her doubt herself, question if she really did enjoy the attention.

Wesker twisted the perky little nubs, and she threw back her head, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

He pulled her back against him, squeezing her harder, “I know you like it. Tell me how much.”

She shook her head.

“Really Miss Chambers,” he kissed her neck, feeling her flinch away, “You shouldn’t lie to me.”

One hand slipped off her chest so that his fingers could wrap around her throat.

She let out the faintest of whimpers, needlessly afraid.

“Tell me you like it,” he said gently, tightening his fingers around her neck, knowing full well how much pressure he could exert without any risk of bruising. If he’d wanted to he could have crushed her throat, left her there and then blamed Irons, but that would have meant an end to the game.

Besides, both she and Irons still had their uses, hers more enjoyable, Irons’ more useful.

Eventually it might come to that, but there was still time.

He moved his hand higher on her throat, pressing his thumb against the underside of her jaw, where he knew it would hurt without causing any actual injury.

“I like it,” her voice was shaky.

“That didn’t sound very sincere,” he eased up his hold on her neck, continuing to knead her breasts, back and forth from one to the other, hard enough to make her wince, “Tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels –”

Her words cut off in a shrill squeal when he pinched her nipple and twisted again.

“I thought you were afraid of someone walking in on us,” he chuckled, “If that’s the case you should keep it quiet. Unless you want to be caught like this. Is that what you want? One of your friends from Bravo Team walking by and seeing us together?”

A small sob escaped her.

Wesker wasn’t sure if it was from humiliation at the thought of being found out, unlikely as it was at this hour, or the fact that there was no common ground or comradery between her and any of her teammates. It was part of what made her such a good diversion, that she had no one to turn to afterwards.

The other part was that she kept coming back. He knew that she didn’t enjoy these late night meetings to discuss her career perspectives, but she always came back.

He enjoyed that kind of obedience in his subordinates.

Idly he let one of his hands drift from her breasts, down to her lap. Her legs were still clamped tightly together, her struggling to maintain some pretense of control over her situation. She was no different than anyone else in that respect, desperate to think that that they could somehow avoid the inevitable.

Of course he wasn’t just anyone, he knew their tricks, their manipulations and how to manipulate that carefully constructed system. Spencer thought he could escape death, escape his company’s inevitable collapse as he continued to overstep bounds he was foolish enough to think himself beyond.

And Miss Chambers thought that there was a possibility of any other outcome to this evening’s activities.

Slowly he unzipped her pants, waiting for her to notice.

Focused as she was on what he was doing to her chest, she didn’t realize until her fly was undone and he hooked a finger under her panties.

She noticed that.

“Please,” she begged, “Captain…”

At least she had to the good sense to stop herself, but it was too late for it to do her any good.

“Please?” Smiling, he stopped what he was doing, took his hands off her chest and rested them on her shoulders, “You’re not enjoying this?”

She started to shake her head, then froze, sensing a trap.

“You want more, is that it?”

Watching her squirm, trying to gather the courage to correct him, as though she believed that he might have misunderstood. He was thoroughly amused by how much effort she put into self-deceit.

“If that’s what you want…”

Before she had time to react he shoved her face down on the desk hard enough to make her cry out. Pinning her with a hand between her shoulders he watched as she struggled, knocking folders off the desk, papers fluttering to the floor.

Grabbing her by the hair he pulled her head up enough that it was uncomfortable, but not painful. She had the tendency to get loud if he hurt her too much.

“You want it rough, do you?”

“Please! Captain!”

Too loud, and she sounded like she was about to cry. He hated it when she did that.

“Stop it!” He lifted her as though he was about to slam her face down on the desk, “Look at the mess you’re making of my office.”

She froze. This was the first time he’d ever reprimanded her during his little game and she didn’t know how to respond. He could practically hear the wheels turning as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to do.

Just to see what would happen he let go of her.

She remained motionless, looking at him, waiting to see what would happen next.

He unzipped his fly.

For a moment he wondered if he should have her suck him until he was fully hard, but quickly rejected the idea. As fun as it could be, when she was this nervous she was terrible at fellatio.

Once he was ready he grabbed her thighs to reposition her. She let him, still afraid to move.

That wouldn’t do.

If she didn’t at least struggle it would be boring and he hated when things were boring.

“Is this your favorite position, bent over my desk, taking it from behind?” He paused, let her think he was done. Unfortunately she didn’t take the bait, so he couldn’t scold her for interrupting him, still, as always he had a plan, “Or should I flip you over so you can watch? That’s what I enjoy the most, seeing the look on your face as you take the full length of my cock.”

Her response was to take a deep breath and brace herself.

Teasing, he rubbed himself between her legs, letting the head of his cock rub brush against her snatch.

She flinched, almost pulled away, but caught herself, knowing full well what would happen if she put up too much of a struggle. Then he tended to take his time, drag things out to enjoy himself longer. Miss Chambers wanted things to be over, but did he?

 “Are you ready?”

She nodded.

Wesker smiled. That certainly was brave of her.

Still smiling, he thrust in.

She wasn’t ready.

Fear had her almost painfully tight and uncomfortably dry. That was fine, nothing a bit of persistence wouldn’t fix.

A few more thrusts, careful until he found the spot, and she started to get wet. A natural enough response, but he knew it humiliated her, yet another reminder of how little control she had over the situation.

“I can tell you like it, you wouldn’t get so wet otherwise,” he commented as he continued to thrust, trying to decide if he wanted to prolong things or not. For the time being he was content to keep his pace slow and measured, enjoy the control he had over her. Certainly far more than she had over herself, which was a large part of the fun.

She lay there, enduring his attentions, waiting for him to be done.

That certainly wouldn’t do. He wanted her to be a more active participant matters and, fortunately, he knew just the way to get her to oblige.

“I think I might try something different tonight, would you like that?”

Silence met his question, all her focus on trying to resist what she was undoubtedly feeling. He had no illusions that she enjoyed any of it, but he also knew that at least once previously he had managed to get her to reach climax. It wasn’t something he’d tried for since then and it certainly wasn’t what he had in mind for this session.

“I’ve decided I’m going to finish inside you,” he thrust harder to punctuate the statement, causing her to squirm.

“No,” she begged, “Don’t.”

“Don’t stop?” He leaned forward, resting some of his weight on her, holding her in place as she began to struggle in earnest, “You want it harder?”

She tried to protest, but all that escaped her was a moan as he continued to pick up his pace. Her struggles were desperate, though futile. Several times she tried to pull away and each time he pulled her back. It was remarkable how she never gave up despite being so hopelessly overpowered. That was why she was so much fun, she never learned, always hoped that there would be some other outcome. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she ever gave up, probably he’d need to find another distraction, for he doubted that she’d hold his interest for long after that.

Unless, what if he did manage to find a position for her in Umbrella proper? Get her situated as a reward for a job well done, just in time for his own plans to reach fruition and for him to leave her there to take the fall along with all the others.

That would be amusing if nothing else.

It was something for him to keep in mind for later, if the chance came up.

She would certainly be as pliable in a research position as she was in any other.

Laying across the desk, utterly at his mercy Miss Chambers begged and pleaded with him.

He briefly considered reminding her to be quiet, but decided it would be pointless. Amusing a distraction as she could be, he didn’t feel like dragging things out any longer than necessary tonight. He’d had his fun and now it was time for him to finish.

A few more thrusts, just to make her wonder if he really did intend to come in her, then, at the last possible moment he pulled out.

“If you insist,” taking his cock in his hand he brought himself to climax, coming across her back.

Miss Chambers let out a sigh of relief, and turned around.

He smiled down at her, cock still in hand, “You’re not done yet, not until you clean up this mess you’ve made.”

She swallowed nervously and, when she was too slow, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her to him.

“Go on,” he brought her face to his cock, “Clean it.”

She closed her eyes, her tongue darting out to lick nervously, then grimaced.

“What’s the matter, don’t like the taste?” He pulled her hair and the moment she opened her mouth to protest he shoved his cock in, “Now do a good job of it.”

She didn’t, of course. The whole while her expression was one of disgust, her tongue barely moving and more than once he had to remind her to be careful when she got careless with her teeth. It was messy and unpleasant and he wouldn’t have done it at all if not for the way she looked at him afterwards, waiting to see what else he’d ask from her.

Nothing this time, though maybe next time, because he’d decided there would be a next time, he’d try once again at having her fellate him. Just to see how good she was at following orders.

“You can go now Miss Chambers,” he said, shoving her roughly away, “And clean yourself up. You’re a mess.”

He watched her run out of the room, her head bowed in shame, and listened to her retreating footsteps as she ran down the hall.

If she decided to go to the showers he might follow and watch. Not that he wanted a second round tonight, but how nervous she got when he watched was amusing in its own way.

Unfortunately by the sounds of it she was running for the door, humorous in its own right, but not at all the diversion he needed.

Sighing, he began to straighten up his desk, looking at the papers that had been scattered. The sight of a particular file lying face up made him frown.

He wanted the results on the damned Tyrant already, or at the very least to know what was taking so long. As fun as the distractions he found for himself could be, having things go the way they were supposed to would be far more gratifying at this point in time.

**Author's Note:**

> Wesker is a manipulative bastard and way too much fun to write because of it. Here's to horrible people being horrible.


End file.
